Parenthood: The First Three Months

The last time I wrote, I was pregnant and anxiously anticipating the arrival of Jazz. During this time, Kyle and I both spent countless hours imagining what it would be like to bring our son home. Every Saturday morning, we would lay in bed and picture him between us, us all cuddling and him cooing. We were as excited as two parents could be.

 Jazz was born on June 1st at 2:38 a.m. After 18.5 long, painful hours, my baby boy had his first cries. He lay on my chest, covered in remnants of the womb, screaming a very specific cry reserved only for his birthday. He wrapped his tiny hand around my index finger and his cries slightly slowed. I kissed his forehead, over and over again, as this was all I could do to express this overwhelming love at first sight. I will never, ever, forget this magical moment. It was beyond anything Kyle and I could have imagined, and life has never and will never be the same.

 We brought him home three days later. Despite feeling completely prepared before he was born, this was a terrifying moment. I was trying to breastfeed and had been convinced he was starving to death. Whenever he cried, I felt a tinge of anxiety that I wouldn't know how to help him. That night, I longed for the nurses who always knew how to help.

 This was a rough night that really tested Kyle and me. It was a Sunday and I had not slept more than a 30 minute stretch since Wednesday night and would not sleep again until Tuesday. Something happens to your brain after not sleeping that long. You start hallucinating and you're in a state of constant confusion. That whole night feels like a blur.

 At 9:00 p.m., Jazz started screaming. This was during an attempt to breastfeed. He did not stop screaming until 6:00 a.m. when I defiantly made him a bottle of formula. He drank that formula so fast and I felt so awful that he was so hungry and it seemed I was unable to feed him the way I wanted to. I was tired and exhausted and in that moment decided I would exclusively pump as long as I could. By Wednesday, I had nothing left to pump and Jazz, much to my extreme disappointment, became a formula fed baby.

 I remember those first few days and they seem foggy. We were all in survival mode. Jazz, terrified and overwhelmed by this new loud, stimulating world, and Kyle and I, learning how to care for a baby on the front lines. I also remember being overwhelmed with emotion. I would look at this tiny, beautiful baby and I would just marvel at the beauty we had created. And thanks to hormones, I also mourned the loss of my pregnancy. At three weeks, we realized Jazz was a colicky baby, often screaming for several hours at a time thanks to gas. The pediatrician put him on a formula that had all of the milk proteins broken down so his body didn't have to do the work. This worked like a charm until 6 weeks when he realized he had awful acid reflux.

 Around 6 weeks we experienced our first social smile. This was simply amazing. We both would tear-up for about a week each time he smiled at us. There is nothing better than having your baby really interact with you for the first time. In this moment, you know your baby loves you and that is amazing.

 At 11 weeks, Jazz started sleeping and eating on a schedule, which made life so much easier. At 12 weeks (last night) he slept 8 hours with only one short feeding in between. This is a huge accomplishment and a sign that my little man is growing up! I felt so proud of him that I wanted to reward him with extravagent toys, a trip to get ice cream, or the park, but he's not ready for that yet. Instead, I do one better, I tell him I am proud of him and that I love him and he beams full of smiles.

 Yesterday Jazz rolled over for the first time. The day before that, he started laughing. The past three days have been full of huge developmental accomplishments.

 So, here I sit, reflecting on the first three months, which I am told are the hardest for new parents. They have definitely been hard, but I am so amazed at how wonderful they have been, too. Kyle and I have nurtured a person, who by all accounts, loves us and loves the life we are creating. Despite the colic and reflux set backs, he is happy, so happy and so are we! He smiles all of the time and loves it when one of us walks into a room. I can now break a crying spell just by sweetly talking to him; he switches from tears, to smiles and laughter in a moment just by the simple act of us showing him love.

 He is beautiful and not in the sense I once defined beauty. He radiates an angelic glow and I selfishly feel like he was sent from God, just for me, to be my tiny angel. He is pure in every sense and I hope to preserve that for as long as possible. He has changed my life in ways I still don't understand. I see the world differently. I feel every emotion deeply and sincerely. As a mother, I see the world through the eyes of a mom, which only a mom can understand and I don't dare try to explain it.

 The best lesson from these last three months can be summed up by his father, Kyle. "His happiness is my happiness." And so far, to me, that is parenthood.